


Polite Kidnappers

by toesohnoes



Category: X-Men (Movies), X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: M/M, preslash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-21
Updated: 2011-11-21
Packaged: 2017-10-26 09:57:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/281684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toesohnoes/pseuds/toesohnoes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charles can't exactly object to being abducted when Erik continues to be polite.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Polite Kidnappers

**Author's Note:**

> Written at my [Tumblr](http://toestastegood-fic.tumblr.com/post/13024376553/i-wish-all-my-kidnappers-could-be-so).

“I wish all my kidnappers could be so accommodating,” Charles says as he wheels himself along the pier towards the table Erik has set up for them.

Walking at his side, Erik glances down. “How many kidnappers have you had?” he asks.

Charles looks up at him with a hidden spark of mischief in his eyes. “You’d be surprised,” he answers, which tells Erik absolutely nothing at all. It’s a reminder of the way that their lives have split apart - there is so much about Charles’s life that he no longer knows. He’s shut out, and it’s his own choice but that doesn’t mean that it doesn’t make his jaw ache with frustration. “You’re one of the nicer ones.”

“I’m happy to hear that.” He isn’t surprised by how sharp his own voice sounds. Reaching the table, he waves away their guards and pulls back one of the wooden chairs so that Charles can wheel into its place. Walking around the table, he sits opposite him. It’s only been a year, but Charles looks so much older than Erik remembers; he looks tired, simple as that. “It’s good to see you again.”

Charles looks down at the white table cloth and sits back in his chair, breathing in through his nose. He leans his head against his hand, fingers pressed against his temple, but Erik is well-protected inside his helmet. He knows Charles won’t get in. “What is this about, Erik?” Charles asks. “Why am I here?”

There are so many answers to that that it’s almost impossible to reply. “It’s been a year,” Erik says, forcing the words from his lips even if they fight against him. “I only wanted to see you again.”

Charles’s eyes narrow in evaluation; it makes Erik feel like a test subject, like he is nothing more than a puzzle for Charles to solve. “I don’t think I can believe you, my friend,” Charles says reluctantly.

Abruptly, Erik pushes away plans of teasing favours out of Charles: he had had requests to make and people to locate; information to extract and missions to fight.

For now, for tonight, proving a point seems worth far more.

“We’re still friends,” Erik reminds him. “The past year shouldn’t change that.”

While the stars shine above them and the surrounding lamps do a poor job at fighting off the night, they share dinner as if nothing has changed; Erik devours every word Charles speaks as if it might be the last he ever hears, and he clings onto every scrap of information about Charles’s foreign life.

Tomorrow, it will be different; tonight, it stays the same.


End file.
